


Singled Out

by LoveChilde



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Athos gets Ideas, Discipline, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kink Meme, Might become a series, Mostly hurt though, Parental Overtones, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-09 06:38:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1972656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveChilde/pseuds/LoveChilde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kink meme fill- Athos does something stupid and dangerous, and Treville must discipline him, as his commanding officer. No slash, deviates slightly from prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Singled Out

"You understand why I must do this, of course." 

Athos stood in De Treville's office, eyes forward and looking just beyond the captain's left shoulder. "I'll confess that I do not, Sir."

"Well then, let's go over it again." De Treville faced him squarely, but then started pacing, clearly unable to contain his anger. "Do you deny that you were arrested by the Red Guards for disturbing the peace, along with several others, for starting a brawl?"

"No, Sir." Having been dragged back by those same Red Guards, and with a dozen witnesses, Athos couldn't very well deny it. 

"Do you deny that you led your fellow Musketeers in this brawl, for which you were arrested?" Treville was truly angry, his voice low and dangerous, and Athos started to feel uncomfortable, but carefully kept his head up, and did not allow his eyes to stray to the object resting on Treville's desk. 

"No, Sir." 

"So. You brawled like common street urchins, disgraced yourselves and the Musketeers, were _arrested_ for it, by the Cardinal's own men, which led to my having to talk very fast and promise several favors in order to have you released to my custody, and you _do not understand why I believe you deserve some kind of punishment for it_?"

"In our defense, it was in good cause." 

This claim gave Treville pause, and he stopped his pacing for a moment. "What could possibly be a good reason to start a brawl?" 

Athos considered his words carefully for a moment, and then decided to be blunt about it. "The brawl was started to stop a duel, Sir." 

"This was not in the report." Treville raised an eyebrow. 

"Of course it wasn't, Sir. Dueling is against the law." Athos shrugged, but collected himself quickly into parade rest again. 

"It is." Treville sighed. "I assume that you will not tell me who was about to participate in this duel?"

"No, Sir." It was a matter of honor, and Athos had no intention of betraying his friends. Treville knew better than to expect anything else, and nodded tiredly.

"Very well. Then you admit that you were in the wrong." Athos half-nodded, then shifted slightly on his feet and grimaced, and Treville's stern expression softened into concern. 

"Are you injured? I was told that there had been no significant injuries." 

"Bruises and scratches, Sir." Athos dismissed his own discomfort, even as he shifted again. 

"Don't lie to me, Athos. You're making things worse for yourself, and you're in enough trouble already."

"So you've made clear, Sir. I'm not sure why I'm the one being singled out for this, though." Beyond his general opposition to Treville's intention to punish him, let alone to the method proposed by the captain, the fact that he was the only Musketeer in the captain's office, when half a dozen others had been involved, and arrested with him, galled him.

"Because they are young recruits, and you led them. Because you charged in recklessly, risking yourself and others. Because I expect better from you, Athos. The others look up to you, you set an example for them, and when you rush into foolish, reckless dangers, they believe that they should do the same! This kind of recklessness gets people _killed_ , Athos!" Treville slammed his hand down on his desk, and Athos flinched and then wished he hadn't. "You could have gotten killed, or seriously hurt. You were outnumbered, and surrounded by green Musketeers, children, not even experienced soldiers. It's a miracle nobody was killed, in truth- sheer dumb luck."

"You hold our abilities in such low esteem? Any one of our recruits is worth at least one and a half Red Guards." Athos knew that arguing would most likely only anger the captain further, but he couldn't ignore this slight against the Musketeers. 

"They outnumbered you three to one!" Against that fact, Athos had no counter-argument, and inclined his head slightly, conceding the point. "Do you have any idea what it sounded like, when I was told my Musketeers had been arrested by a horde of the Cardinal's men? The trouble you're in?! I had to go before the King to explain your behavior, before he'd allow your release!" Treville was almost shouting now, and Athos struggled to remain calm and cool in the face of his fury. 

"The Red Guards were overeager, we disturbed nobody's peace and they'd never have been able to make the charges stick, anyway."

"You know they're always eager for any excuse to damage the Musketeers' reputation, and you walked right into it! All of you- you acted like fools, and you should be ashamed of yourselves!"  
"All of us." Athos replied, an edge of anger creeping into his voice, "And I am the one singled out for-" he waved a hand in Treville's direction, "-this."

"I've explained why. You are a leader among the men, Athos. As you set an example rushing into battle, the consequences of your hasty and dangerous actions will be an example as well."

"Then why not do it in front of all of them?" Athos bit out through clenched teeth. He knew he was treading dangerous ground, there- after all, Treville might agree that it was a good idea, which was the last thing Athos wanted.To his extreme relief, Treville gave him a scandalized look. 

"In public? Are you insane, man? No, I wish to spare you some dignity, and I want no word of this to ever get outside this room." He shook his head, "I hope you weren't serious, suggesting that. You are still a Musketeer. No, this will remain between the two of us only, and hopefully the impact of what's about to happen will teach you caution, which you will pass on to the others."

"Then may I also use your methods on the others, if necessary, to teach them caution?" Athos was only half serious, and didn't really expect a reply.

"As long as I don't hear about it, and it remains an internal matter, you may do as you see fit." Treville allowed himself a small, brief smile at Athos' startled look, before he grew stern again. "And now that we've made it clear _why_ I must do this, you have your orders." 

Athos was silent for a moment, then said, "I should like to point out that I'm a full-grown man."

Treville nodded, stony-faced.

"Also, I think it's worth pointing out that I am a count from an old and respected family." Treville was one of exactly three people in Paris who knew that Athos was the Comte de la Fere, and Athos wasn't above mentioning it in certain situations, when he thought it was warranted. This occasion, he felt, very much warranted it.

Treville nodded again. "So noted. And I would like to point out that I am also a count, and that my family is as old and as respectable as yours." In fact, the De Trevilles were in far better standing than the De la Feres, and they both knew it. "Furthermore, I'll remind you that I am your commanding officer, and when you joined the Musketeers you gave your word as a gentleman personally to me, as well as your oath to the King, that you would obey me in all things, as a Musketeer, your station in life notwithstanding. Do you remember, Athos?"

"I do, Sir." Athos nodded shortly, and added, "I'll admit that I didn't anticipate the need to obey this particular command, though."

"Life is full of surprises." Treville replied, his voice dry. "Especially when one charges recklessly and without sufficient cause into violence, and is, as you ought to know, worthy of highest reproach."

"Really? You're quoting Castiglione at me?" Athos snorted, and Treville glared at him.   
"He was right a century ago, and he's still right today, about that, at least. And your attitude is not helping your case at all. Let's not make this any harder than it has to be, Athos. Now, strip."

"And if I refuse?" Athos wasn't really certain he'd refuse, even if it were at all possible, but his dignity required that he ask this.

"I could try to wrestle you down and force the issue, " Treville replied, cool as a cucumber, "but that could be embarrassing for the both of us. No; if you refuse, my orders are to return you to the custody of the Red Guards, to face trial. It would involve a fairly lengthy stay in prison, a humiliating public trial, and either a heavy fine or something worse. I think your chances are far better staying here and _obeying my bloody orders_ , don't you? Now, for your own sake, strip." 

Athos slowly inclined his head again, capitulating with as much grace as he had left. Having resigned himself to what was about to happen, he made short work of removing his clothes, folding everything in a neat pile. He was a soldier, well-used to communal bathing and shared quarters, and made no pretense at modesty or squeamishness, and still, he felt awkward standing naked and vulnerable before the captain. He made an effort not to show his embarrassment, however, and waited for further instructions with his hands behind his back.

Treville made sure the bar across the door was secured, and that the shutters were still latched shut, as they had been since Athos came in. It made the room dim, with only candles and a single lantern fighting back the darkness, but somehow this made things easier for Athos, not having to stand there in full light- and in full sight of whoever happened to be outside. Then, Treville pulled his high-backed chair from behind his desk and to the center of the room. "Come here, Athos." He sat down and patted his thigh, "Over my lap."

"No." The word exploded out of Athos on a shocked huff of breath, and he froze, chilled all over as blood rushed to his face. The captain couldn't ask this of him- he wouldn't.

"Don't argue. Come here. I intend to make it excruciatingly clear just how angry and disappointed I am with you, me personally. The part of your punishment which is part of my promise to his Majesty to discipline my Musketeers will come afterwards. Now, come here." Treville's voice snapped like a lash on the last words, and Athos found himself moving before his mind could catch up with his legs. 

"Please, don't do this." Was there more dignity in begging, or in allowing Treville to spank him like a small child? Both were humiliating. As soon as he was close enough, Treville caught his arm and drew him down across his lap, and Athos was too stunned to resist. It was ridiculous, ludicrous even- he was too tall for the position, bracing himself with both hands and feet solidly on the ground, and the odd sensation of his bare stomach and privates against the rough heat of Treville's breeches was just too surreal to contemplate. Athos closed his eyes, and wished for a miracle.

There was no miracle. Instead, there was the slapping noise of skin on skin, followed by stinging heat. 

"Do you understand how risky and foolish your actions were?" Treville asked as he peppered Athos' rear with stinging slaps, a question which Athos fervently hoped was rhetorical. It seemed that it was, since Treville continued, "How dangerous, and what a terrible example you set for the others? You allowed things to escalate until a duel was necessary, and then did nothing to stop them, did you not? It's not the sort of behavior I expected from you at all. I thought you had more sense, Athos- better judgement, a cooler head, more decorum than to find such a- a vulgar solution. I'm deeply disappointed in you." 

Athos didn't know what was worse- the growing sting in his rear, hot and embarrassing and rather more painful than he'd expected, or the sting of Treville's words. The captain's respect meant the world to Athos, and thinking he might lose it tore at his heart, and hurt considerably more than the spanking did. 

"I could think of no other solution." He protested, trying to keep his voice cool and steady despite the strain he was already feeling. "The youngsters were determined to duel, it was a point of honor- over a lady- and I couldn't dissuade them. I was there to make sure nobody did anything more foolish than they had to- and the Guards snuck up behind us." 

"Don't try to excuse your behavior, you know it was foolish and reckless. Simply take your punishment and be silent." Treville still sounded furious, and Athos held his tongue and concentrated on holding still and silent as the spanking continued. 

It seemed to go on forever, long after heat had turned to fiery pain. At some point Treville slipped on a leather glove to protect his hand, but Athos was afforded no such protection. He kept still and silent, grit his teeth and locked his muscles, completely focused on not showing any distress. Finally it was over, and he had to struggle to hold back a sigh of relief. 

"Stand." 

He rose, too fast, it seemed, since the world spun and he swayed for a moment before his head settled. "Steady. Go over there." Treville indicated the corner of the room. "Face the wall, hands behind your head." 

A further humiliation. Athos obeyed in silence, even though all he wanted was to rub the ache away from his rear, which was throbbing in time with his heartbeat, hot and angry. This was unfair. Others had done worse, and had gotten into almost no trouble- why was he the scapegoat for the whole garrison? Anger kept shame and misery at bay, as he faced the wall and fumed silently. 

"You are angry." Treville had moved silently, or maybe it was Athos who was distracted by his own anger and hadn't noticed, but the captain was suddenly standing right behind him. "I can see it in your shoulders. You think I've wronged you." There was a hand on his shoulder, warm and grounding, and Athos shuddered, unable to stop himself, before it was removed. "You may answer."

Athos hadn't been waiting for permission, but making sure his voice would come out smooth and steady took a moment. "I was one of half a dozen." He started, calm and measured. It was easier to talk when he faced the wall and not the captain himself. "I know that I am older and more experienced than they are, but-" But they had all been arrested, had all been dragged in by the Red Guards, under a pretext so ridiculous that it was surprising that the King made such a fuss about it, "It was only a brawl."

"The King takes the peace of the city very seriously. He insisted that the Musketeers be dealt with severely, especially you, as you were clearly the leader." Treville sounded cold, but there was something under the words, an emotion that caught Athos' ear. 

"The Cardinal was whispering poison in his ear again, wasn't he?" He asked, and continued without waiting for a reply, "And you couldn't protect us." It came out angrier than he'd intended, more hurt and accusing. Treville's handed landed on his shoulder again, hard this time, and Athos found himself shaken like a puppy, his hands dropping to his sides to keep his balance. 

"This _is_ me protecting you! By God, Athos, have you forgotten what politics is, pretending to be no more than a soldier all these years? Do you have an idea what a coup it'll be for the Cardinal, if I lose you?"

"Me?" This startled Athos enough that he turned to look at Treville, brows drawn together. Treville shook him again, not quite as hard this time.

"Yes, you, you idiot. Richelieu knows that I rely on you, that you're a role-model to the other men! A prison sentence would mean your discharge from the Musketeers, and a fine would be heavy enough, even with your resources, that you would have to sell or pawn your equipment, which would mean exactly the same thing! Either way, the Musketeers would lose you, morale would take a hit, and I'd lose one of my most trusted men- my friend- and the Cardinal would rejoice in our failure. By promising the King that I would deal with you personally, internally, by relying on your spotless record as a Musketeers, and- privately- on the fact that the King is aware of your status, I've made it possible for you to remain a Musketeer. But this is the price you must pay." Treville, whose voice rose during this speech until he was almost shouting, subsided, looking frustrated and tired. "Do you understand, Athos? This- all this-" He indicated the room, Athos himself, and his desk, "-this is the best I can do to protect the Musketeers, myself, and you from the consequences of your own reckless actions." 

Athos hung his head, humbled and mortified. He knew that the Cardinal disliked the Musketeers and was forever looking for ways to disband them, but he'd never imagined that this hatred would be directed at him, specifically, not that his value was thought to be so great. Had he allowed himself to be blinded to politics by the routine of military life, as Treville said? "I- I didn't know." He felt like a young, very stupid child in front of his captain now, humiliated by his own thoughtlessness and his misplaced, ungrateful anger as much as by the consequences thereof. 

"I doubt you'd have taken the risk, if you'd known." Treville replied wryly, "At least, I hope you're wiser than that. Now that the situation, the dangers, and my anger have been made clear, I hope I will never, ever need to repeat this kind of punishment. Look at me.” Athos raised his eyes to find the captain looking as serious- and as open- as he’d ever seen him. “Do you understand me now? Am I as clear as spring-water? I don't ever want to do this again. And I do not want to lose you, as a friend or as a Musketeer. Do you understand?" There was compassion in his voice, even gentleness now that his anger had drained away. He held Athos’ eyes until Athos couldn’t bear it anymore and looked down.

"I understand." He had to swallow past the sudden lump in his throat to speak. "I'm sorry, Sir. I never intended this- never-" 

"I know you didn't," Treville said again, "Now come, let us get this over with. Come here." Hand still on Athos' shoulder, Treville turned him away from the corner and led him to face the wall, away from the windows. "You're familiar with the martinet, I imagine?" He left Athos facing the wall and moved to his desk, picking up the many-tailed instrument and shaking it out. Athos risked a look over his shoulder, noting ten heavy leather tails, perhaps two feet in length, attached to a wooden handle. He pushed down a twist of apprehension in his gut and nodded.

"My father had one much like this one, though perhaps somewhat lighter. I have encountered it before." He did not have any fond memories of the martinet; it was a justifiably feared instrument of correction. 

"You are also somewhat bigger and tougher than you were when it was last used on you, I would guess." Treville sounded annoyingly casual about the whole thing. "Hands flat against the wall, higher than your shoulders. Spread your legs, and hold the position." The position forced Athos to present his backside, and he braced against the wall and did just that, determined not to disappoint his captain further by arguing or questioning. He told himself he'd take his punishment honorably and silently and not make things harder on either of them. This resolve was tested almost immediately, as Treville spoke again. "Forty lashes. Count them out, please." 

Forty was more than he'd ever gotten as a child, and despite years of brutal training and fighting, Athos wasn't at all sure he could take that many with any kind of dignity. Worse, he worried that the Musketeers training in the yard might hear something, although they were as far from the windows as possible- the wooden shutters were meant for stopping wind and prying eyes, not noise. He had very little time to contemplate all this before the first stroke fell.

"One." Damn, it hurt more than he remembered, the lashes splaying out and covering most of his rear in a single blow, ten stinging stripes of pain. Still, he counted the first ten lashes steadily, quietly, determined to see this through. It wasn't unbearable, yet.

Treville moved around him, after the first ten, taking up a position slightly further away and on his left. There was a single swish of the martinet through the air and Athos braced for impact, which never connected. "Just testing for distance. You may continue counting now."

The martinet rose and landed again, and Athos bit down on a cry on pain that managed to sneak out as a muffled grunt as the lashes curled over and around his left ass-cheek, the tips biting down into the cleft and his inner thigh. "Eleven." He hissed, thinking that however more like this one he had to take would be too many. Four more from the left, and five from the right, doing the same to his right cheek. There wasn't an inch of skin the lashes hadn't found, and Athos was taking fast, shallow breaths to hold back shameful whimpering. He managed the count, somehow, with an effort. 

"That's twenty. You're doing well." 

Halfway through. He could do this. Treville moved again, to stand directly behind Athos. "Keep counting."

He kept counting, having no other choice, as Treville stood behind him and brought the martinet swinging down, right and left, almost too quickly for Athos to keep track of. 

"Twenty- four, twenty six-"

"That was twenty five, Athos. Count again. Your math is slipping." 

"Twenty five, Sir, I'm sorry." He gasped, but Treville didn't swing again. 

"No, you misunderstand. This next one will be twenty-five."

"But I just-" 

"Another word and I'll make this next one number twenty. Do you understand?" 

" _But_ -"

"Start again at twenty. And not another word." 

He almost dropped his hands and turned around. He almost spoke, but something stopped him, a twist in the pit of his stomach that turned anger into guilt and self-hatred, for his childish display of temper. He allowed his head to drop between his arms, bit his lip against speaking, and nodded. 

"Good." 

Treville went more slowly now, which allowed Athos to catch his breath between strokes and keep the count, but also allowed him to feel each individual stroke more sharply. Staying silent was getting harder, especially since he had to stay focused enough to count, and his voice wavered as he counted, as getting in enough air to speak became a problem, because any air he could get in his lungs seemed to want to be expelled as a shout of pain, and not breathing made things easier. 

"Thsss-thirty." He managed to grit out, dark spots dancing in front of his eyes. He closed his eyes tightly against the sting of tears, and prayed that he wouldn't miss count again. 

"Breathe, Athos. It wouldn't do for you to faint out of sheer stubbornness." A comforting hand squeezed his arm, surprising him enough that he sucked in a shuddering breath and let it out too quickly, in what he hoped sounded less like a sob to Treville than it did to his own ears. "Again, slowly." 

He breathed in and out, following instructions, for several long moments until it felt less like he was going to pass out. The only solid things keeping him up was the wall under his palms, and Treville's hand on his arm. Finally, he blinked and looked at Treville, wondering whether the captain would continue and when, but wary of asking. 

Treville nodded shortly, "Let's finish this now."

Somehow, he got through it. Somehow, he counted every one of the last ten strokes, His jaw ached from being clenched so tightly, but finally it was over. 

"Forty. God. Forty. Please. I'm- I'm sorry." He was trembling, a little queasy, and everything hurt, agony radiating up and down from his rear. 

"Forty. We're done." Treville agreed quietly. "Take a moment. You may move." Athos wasn't sure he _could_ move, or that he wanted to, but slowly he pushed closer to the wall, taking comfort from the solid stone under his hands, leaning his forehead against the cool surface. 

He wanted to let himself sink down to the floor, but pride kept him on his feet. After a long, long minute, he was almost sure he could stand and maybe even walk without falling on his face. With Treville discreetly looking away, Athos quickly swiped the back of his hand over his eyes, and turned to face his captain. He cleared his throat, both to draw Treville's attention and to make sure there would be no trace of emotion in his voice. "May I get dressed?"

"You may." Treville nodded. "But turn around first, let me look at you." 

Colouring slightly, Athos turned so Treville could inspect the damage he'd inflicted on Athos' rear. He had no idea why he was even embarrassed any more- Treville had seen every part of him that there was to see, today, and still it was awkward to be studied like that. 

"You'll heal. A few days of sleeping on your front should see you mended." Treville nodded, satisfied, and sat at his desk, shuffling papers. This allowed Athos the pretence of privacy in which to dress, which he immediately made use of. First, he reached back, exploring with careful fingers to see the extent of the damage. Treville hadn't cut him, which was a blessing; he could feel the raised stripes where the tips of the martinet had bit into his skin, but no blood even where the skin was thinnest. Every inch of his rear was hot and sore, but he knew that Treville was right, and he would be fine within a few days at most. 

Getting dressed was a slow and uncomfortable endeavour, as even linen felt harsh against his skin, and the tight leather breeches didn't help matters any.Eventually he was decent again, boots on and hat in hand, facing Treville much as he had at the beginning of the interview. 

"You're dismissed." Treville rose, and gripped Athos' forearm in a soldier's grip, which Athos returned gratefully. This, more than anything, showed him that he still had the captain's respect and trust, which somehow made the whole thing worthwhile. "Do take care in the future. Next time I may not be able to talk you out of greater trouble- or his Majesty might demand to witness the punishment. Don't ever make me do this again, Athos. Please." 

"I won't." Athos meant it whole-heartedly; he had no intention of ever putting either of them in this position again. "Um- what you said before- about the others?"

"As long as you're careful and it remains an internal matter." Treville confirmed, with the ghost of a smile on his face. "It wouldn't do for rumours to spread that the Musketeers are spanking each other into submission. But I trust your judgement in this." 

"Thank you." Athos stood straighter and nodded, appreciating this further sign of trust. It wasn't that he intended to ever do this to any of his friends, but it was nice to know the option was there if it was ever needed. "I will see you tomorrow?"

"You will." With this, it was clear he was dismissed. 

Walking wasn't fun. And when he opened the door to Treville's office, three worried faces turned up from below to look at him.

"Porthos, Aramis, D'Artagnan." He nodded at each of them in turn. "Nothing better to do?"

"You look like shit." Porthos, as usually, dispensed with unnecessary formalities. "What happened?" 

"Nothing that concerns you." He grit his teeth and made it down the steps, but clearly they noticed something was wrong. 

"Athos, what did the captain _do_ to you?" Aramis sounded truly concerned, and came close enough that Athos could sling a hand across his shoulders and draw him closer. 

"Nothing that concerns you." He repeated, and then smirked, "Except that he gave me some excellent ideas about dealing with the three of you, next time you act like idiots."

"Us, idiots?" Porthos pretended to be offended, and D'Artagnan snickered, 

"No worry there, then."

They all laughed. Athos was feeling better already.

**Author's Note:**

> Original prompt from http://bbcmusketeerskink.dreamwidth.org/:  
> "Treville spanks Athos for something like endangering his life or drinking or something. Fatherly Treville showing how much he cares for Athos, being firm and strict but loving and protective. Papa bear Treville. No Athos/Treville slash please, any other pairing is fine."
> 
> Slightly less parental, more commanding-officer-ish, but hopefully it'll satisfy. And now that Treville has pretty much given Athos permission to discipline the others, I've plot bunnies hopping all over my brain...
> 
> The book they both refer to is the Book of the Courtier, by Baldassare Castiglione, which was first published in 1528 and became the main handbook on courtly and gentlemanly manners for the next few centuries. Treville is paraphrasing more than quoting.


End file.
